Struggling to maintain dignity, Amaranthe shambled out of the mud and onto solid ground. Caked in grime, with clumps of wet hair hanging in her eyes, she doubted her appearance impressed the woman. For once, she was relieved Sicarius let nothing of his thoughts show on his face. Oh, well. Carry on.
“Good afternoon,” Amaranthe said, her tone light and-she hoped-non-threatening. “How are you, Sergeant? Good? Good.” She pried her sword free from the dead lizard. “I was just catching a spot of dinner. Say, Basilard, are these lizards good eating? Wait, scratch that. It’s probably not healthy to ingest magically altered animals.”
The enforcer woman’s nostrils flared at the mention of magic. Or maybe they were flaring at the entire situation.
“What do you want?” she demanded. The name tag sewn on her uniform jacket read: YARA.
“To help,” Amaranthe said.
“I know who you are.”
“And does that preclude a belief that we could be helpful?”
“Yes!” the woman roared.
“Ah. That’ll make this conversation difficult then.”
“You’re criminals,” Yara growled, shoulders hunched. “You tried to assassinate the emperor, and this-” she whipped her head toward Sicarius, “-beast has killed dozens- hundreds! -of soldiers and enforcers. How can you stand here with him? What payment could he give you to betray the empire and your co-workers?”
The words surprised Amaranthe to silence, not because the woman loathed Sicarius-that was expected-but because Yara knew her by sight, knew about the emperor’s kidnapping, and apparently knew Amaranthe’s history as an enforcer. The kidnapping had been in the newspapers, but Amaranthe’s previous employment had not been mentioned. No doubt, it would besmirch the reputation of the force.
“I may work in the farmlands,” Yara said, “but we hear what happens in the city. I know what you did to Corporal Wholt and his men.”
Amaranthe winced. The weeks that had passed since that incident had done little to dull her guilt. Even if Yara believed Amaranthe and the others were up here to help, which was doubtful given the fury emanating from her, she would not forgive Amaranthe for that night. Not with Sicarius standing behind her.
“Why don’t you tell me about the beasts you’re dealing with?” Amaranthe asked. Best to change the subject and get the woman’s mind on work. “Are they what killed your men? Are they the makarovi?”
Yara’s nostrils flared again. “They’re in the dam. Go see for yourself.”
“Is that what you came to investigate? The dam? Or are you here about that artifact in the lake?”
Yara’s lips flattened. Sicarius drew his black dagger with a slow, deliberate rasp.
“I’m not intimidated by your master,” Yara said, “and I won’t answer questions that will help you destroy the city. Kill me if you wish.”
Master? Not likely. “As I said before,” Amaranthe said, “we wish to help.”
“You’re probably responsible for all this,” Yara said. “How could you go rogue? I used to look up to you. People always said good things about you. We all thought you’d plant the tree for the rest of the women on the force to climb.”
Amaranthe rocked back on her heels. “You’d heard of me? Before, er, when I was still an enforcer?”
“Of course! There was only a handful of women across all the precincts. Your record was flawless. We all figured you would be the first to make sergeant, maybe more.”
For a moment, Amaranthe forgot her questions and her reasons for pulling Yara out. Why hadn’t any of those women talked to her? Sent her a message? But then, she had never sought them out either, since they worked in other districts in the city.
“It looks like you made sergeant first,” Amaranthe said.
“Last month,” Yara said. “Me and another woman. They were special promotions from the emperor.” An awed tone crept into her voice. “I didn’t know he knew I existed.”
Amaranthe closed her eyes. It seemed Sespian had found another enforcer to admire. Or perhaps his disappointment in what he believed Amaranthe had become had led him to reward others. Either way, it stung. If she had never attracted Hollowcrest’s attention, maybe she would have had her promotion by now. Maybe-
“How could you betray him?” The fury snapped back into Yara’s voice. She shifted her weight, as if to pull away from Sicarius, but he did not let her move an inch. “How could you join forces with a dung-kissing assassin to kidnap the emperor?”
Basilard, who stood back where he could keep an eye toward the camp, signaled: Time.
“It’s a long tale,” Amaranthe said, “one you wouldn’t believe right now.” Perhaps ever. “But I give you my word we’re here to help. Both of us. Do you know how the artifact got in the lake? Do you know who made it?”
“Of course, I know. My partner and I were the ones to come across his lair. How do you think enforcers got involved in all this?”
“What lair? Where is it? Who’s responsible?’”
But Yara seemed to have decided she had said enough. Her lips flattened, and she lifted her chin.
“Please,” Amaranthe said. “Tell us what we can do.”
Yara snorted. “You want to help? Get that thing out of the lake and those monsters out of the dam.”
“We will,” Amaranthe said, drawing another snort of disbelief from the woman. “Tell us more about the person who did this. Is it a single man? A magic user? Is it a Mangdorian?”
“Find your own answers, rogue.”
“Sergeant Yara,” a man called from the camp. “Where’d you go?”
“Let her go,” Amaranthe told Sicarius.
She expected an argument, but he released her without comment. Yara sprinted toward the camp.
“Time for us to disappear,” Amaranthe said.
Sicarius led the way into the woods. Amaranthe hustled after and left Basilard to cover their trail. She did not know if Yara believed anything or not. Either way her duty would demand she try to capture-or kill-Sicarius and Amaranthe.
Thrashing sounds behind them verified her guess. Sicarius pressed deeper into the woods. Twilight descended, casting darkness across the forest floor. Basilard had fallen behind, so Amaranthe called a halt. Fog curled in from the lake. She no longer heard their pursuit.
Sicarius crouched with his back to a tree to wait. Amaranthe sank down beside him.
“Did you learn anything?” he asked.
She puzzled over the question. Since he had been there and heard everything she had heard, she feared it might be sarcastic, though that was not an attitude she associated with him. He was dry on occasion but rarely sarcastic, unless he was irked at her.
“Are you saying that was a waste of time?” she asked.
“No.”
“Oh.”
Frogs croaked out in the marsh. The bird chatter had fallen silent, but mosquitoes whined.
Sicarius gave her a sidelong look, his face cloaked with shadows. “Do I ever not say what I mean to say?”
“Well. You never say what I wish you’d say, and you frequently say nothing at all when it’s clear you should say something, so it’s not entirely fantastical that you’d say a certain thing when you mean something else entirely.”
He opened his mouth, shut it, and considered the ground briefly before responding. “I remember studying Fleet Admiral Starcrest’s Mathematical Probabilities Applied to Military Strategies as a young boy and finding that less confusing than what you just said.”
Now it was her turn for a stunned pause before answering. “Sicarius?” She laid a tentative hand on his shoulder. “Was that a joke?”
“A statement of fact.”
“Hm. It tickled me, so I’m calling it a joke. Stick with me, and I’ll help you develop your sense of humor.”
He sighed.
She withdrew her hand but not her smile. “I didn’t understand your first question. You were there, so you know what I learned.”
“You learn things others don’t when you speak to people.”